The Ghost You Left Behind
by Sheila Wolfe
Summary: Keith finds out his new roommate is a ghost and makes it his mission to solve the mystery of his death. Ghost Au for Halloween!
1. Chapter 1

1

"Are you sure this is the right one?" Shiro asked for the third time.

Keith rolled his eyes. " _Yes_ I'm sure."

"Maybe they changed the locks or something," Pidge said, shuffling the box in her arms for a better grip. "We can ask the office if they have the new keys somewhere."

"It's not the _key_ ," Keith grumbled, stepping back so the others could see the lock. The key turned with a click but when he jiggled the knob, the door held fast. "I think the door's jammed. Or something's blocking it."

"Maybe your roommates decided to prank you on your first day," Pidge snickered.

"I don't have any roommates," Keith said drily, resorting to shoving at the door with his shoulder. "Everyone requested I _not_ be put in their dorms this year so I got a room to myself."

Shiro's face pinched with concern. "Why is that?"

"Drop it Shiro."

"Keith…"

Keith paused long enough to give him a warning glare. "Just drop it."

Shiro seemed doubtful while Pidge was quick to change the subject.

"Maybe it's the ghost. Everyone said this floor is super haunted."

"Is that the only reason you're here, Pidge?" Keith asked, still wrestling with the stubborn door. "I thought it was weird you wanted to help."

She gasped in mock offence. "I'll have you know I offered to help you move in out of the goodness of my heart."

"And to try to find a ghost."

"Well obviously. You can't have all the fun."

"Please don't set up night vision cameras in my room or something. If there is a ghost, I don't need two of you watching me sleep."

"How dare you deny scientific research!"

"Is that what they're calling it now? Some would call it 'invasion of privacy'."

Pidge huffed. "Whatever, you would do the same thing if it was Bigfoot."

"Bigfoot, no. Mothman, maybe."

Behind them, Shiro sighed. "Enough, you two. Can we continue this…scientific discussion inside, please?"

"I'm _working on it_ , Shiro."

Keith winced as the fifth shove jolted his shoulder but the door still refused to budge. Shiro nudged him out of the way and added his much taller and bulkier weight against the wood.

"Should we knock?" Pidge said as the two men continued their assault on the door. "Maybe we have to be invited in. Should we have brought an offering or something? Maybe a pizza? Do ghosts like pizza? Ooh I know, a virgin sacrifice! You're still a virgin, right Keith?"

"Keep it up, you'll be the next ghost haunting the building."

"Worth it."

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Keith, no threatening people in public. Pidge, don't encourage him. Now come help us push."

"Ugh fiiiiine." She set the box down and shouldered in between the two taller men.

"On three," Shiro said, taking a step back. "One…Two…Three!"

All three shoved against the door and tumbled into the room as it finally gave way and swung open with a bang.

"Ooooow get _off_!" Pidge snapped, elbowing Keith in the ribs. "I wanted to be a ghost not a _pancake_!"

"You're not the only one who fell, you know," Keith retorted, squirming his legs out from under Shiro as the older man shuffled around to prop himself up on his real arm.

"At least we finally got inside," Shiro offered with an optimistic grin. The others answered with dry looks before trudging back into the hall and dragging Keith's stuff inside.

Pidge immediately began running around the dorm room in glee. They checked everything from the worn couches to the cabinets and empty fridge before disappearing down the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"Is that everything?" Shiro asked, looking over the two boxes and duffle bag kicked out of the way.

Keith shrugged. "Yeah I didn't think I'd need much stuff in the first week."

"If you say so. Just let me know if you need anything. I can drop it off before work or something."

"I'll be fine. I've managed with less before."

Shiro frowned again but didn't argue.

"Hey Keith?" Pidge called, her head appearing around the corner of the hall.

"Yeah?"

"You sure you don't have a roommate? One of the rooms is already locked up."

He followed her around the corner and down the hall. Three doorways branched off, the closest on leading to a tiny bathroom. Across the hall was a small, plain bedroom. At the end, Pidge was fiddling with the handle of a firmly shut door.

Keith shrugged. "It might just be a storage room. Or supply closet."

"Or the ghost!" She dropped her backpack, immediately tearing it opening and digging around inside. "I'll see if I can get it open!"

"No breaking and entering, Pidge! I might be off duty but that's still illegal!" Shiro called from the other room. Keith just shook his head and made his way back down the hall.

"No problems now," Shiro said, easily swinging the front door shut. "Might have just been a jam. I'll take a look if it keeps giving you problems."

"It's fine, I can always let the maintenance guy know. With how old this place is, I doubt I'm the only one having issues."

A metallic clatter followed by a wooden creak echoed through the dorm. "I'M IN!"

Shiro and Keith both sighed, each grabbing a box before heading back towards the bedrooms. The third door was now ajar, a beaming Pidge tossing tools back in her bag.

"Pidge, what did I tell you about breaking and entering?" Shiro sighed.

"That you won't arrest me because you're dating my brother," she shot back. Shiro looked equal parts embarrassed and tired while Keith held in his snickering.

Pidge shoved the door open and glanced around the room, the two men crowding in behind her to see. "Well, no ghost, but it looks like you've got a roommate."

Dust floated through the air and coated the tiny window. A handful of boxes were scattered around the floor and perched on the bed. A few had writing on the side to label the packed items. Some had a name written as well that Keith could barely make out from across the room.

Lance.

"That's weird." Keith checked his assignment sheet again but found no other name listed. "Maybe there was a last minute change or something."

Shiro smiled, carrying the box into the second bedroom. "At least you won't be alone."

"You say that like it's a good think," Keith muttered, shifting his own heavy box awkwardly to drop it on the bed. Dust kicked up, making his eyes water and nose itch uncomfortably. "If you guys happen to find the box with cleaning supplies, let me know."

"Will do. We can help you clean up after we move everything," Shiro offered, dropping a duffle bag on the floor.

"No, it's fine. I'll probably just tidy up tonight and wait to deep clean this weekend."

"If you say– _Pidge_!" Shiro's sudden booming voice made Keith jump as the older man stomped into the other bedroom. He reemerged a moment later, hauling Pidge with him by the back of her jacket. "You can't go snooping through someone's stuff, especially when they're not here. Come on, we need to help Keith unpack and get going. Your brother's expecting us back soon."

"You guys never let me have any _fuuuuuuun_ ," Pidge groaned. She trudged into Keith's new room, flinging herself onto the bed.

"I've got it from here if you guys need to go," Keith said, leaning against the wall to take in the cramped space. Pidge had already ripped open one of the boxes and was digging through the mess of clothes.

"Why? Afraid we'll find something we shouldn't?" she winked. Keith scowled and crossed his arms.

"No. I just have a sense of privacy, unlike _some_ people. Besides, it's a long drive and it's already late. And you're probably tired from driving all the way here in the first place and–"

"Keith it's fine," Shiro interrupted, giving him a reassuring smile. "I don't mind and despite Pidge's complaining, she doesn't either. That's what friends do. Besides, I'll feel better knowing you're settled in before we leave."

Sighing, Keith relented with a small smile. "Thanks."

"Great! Now let's see what kind of secrets I can blackmail you with," Pidge cackled, digging through the box while Shiro unzipped the duffle bag and started separating out clothes onto the mattress.

Keith huffed a laugh and turned to grab the last box when he noticed someone hovering near the doorway.

He was tall and slender with a tawny complexion and short, chestnut hair. His brilliant, crystal blue eyes nearly glowed with rage as they stared Keith down. Before Keith could react, the other young man whipped around and marched towards the other bedroom, the echoing slam of the door making him wince.

"What was that?!" Pidge yelped, nearly tipping the box off the bed. Shiro jumped and turned towards the noise, too late to see the other man leave.

Keith sighed, folding his arms tighter as he glowered at the floor. "My roommate."

…

It didn't take long to finish unpacking the rest of Keith's things and stow them away in the limited closet and drawer space the room had to offer. Shiro and Pidge said their goodbyes, sharing tight hugs and loud complaints from Pidge, before leaving Keith to his not quite empty dorm.

Keith's roommate didn't show his face for the rest of the night. Even when Keith checked over his schedule in the living room and snacked on some left over pizza he brought from Shiro's. Only the occasional shuffle or creak gave evidence to him being there at all.

He considered knocking on the door, hoping a proper introduction would make things less awkward, but the memory of blue eyes staring daggers at him kicked the notion in the head.

It was still early when exhaustion crept up on Keith. He shoved the last of the pizza in the fridge and shuffled back to his room, staying awake long enough to get ready for bed before collapsing on the uncomfortable mattress.

…

Keith awoke a few hours later to a strange noise invading his sleep. Jolting upright, the unfamiliar surroundings became recognizable as his eyes adjusted to the dark. A glance at the clock told him it was nearly three in the morning.

He flopped back down on the bed, ready to pass out again but the noise reached his ears again and made him sit up. It was almost too quiet to hear, drifting in from outside his bedroom. Grabbing his knife, Keith crept to the door and cracked it open to peer into the hall.

Keith didn't see anything but the sound continued from somewhere in the common room. Swinging his door open, Keith followed the noise, stubbing his toe against the couch as he groped blindly in the dark.

As he woke up more, Keith realized the noise was music, quiet and soothing in a language he didn't understand. He followed the song until he bumped his hip against the kitchen counter and found the source.

A small, portable radio was shoved to the back of the counter near the sink. Squinting in the dark, Keith felt out the buttons and finally clicked it off. Eerie silence filled the kitchen as he set it back down.

Retracing his steps through the dark, Keith couldn't shake the prickling sensation of being watched. It made his skin crawl and the grip on his knife tightened as he finally stumbled back to his room. Tossing the knife on the nightstand, Keith collapsed back into bed, exhaustion dragging him back to sleep as the distant hum of a song lulled over him.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Keith's first day was turning out to be his worst bout of bad luck in years.

First, he had woken up late. His alarm clock had been set wrong, his phone charger had come unplugged in the night, and his phone was only running on ten percent battery when he finally left the dorm. He barely made it to his first class on time, ignoring the mixed looks his classmates shot him.

Then, after his first class was over, Keith realized he left his wallet and keys behind during his hurried exit. He was hungry and irritated but made peace with skipping lunch, hoping his roommate would be there to let him back in later.

The rest of the day was a mad dash all over the campus. Each of Keith's classes were scattered through different buildings and with his back to back schedule, he ended up running to make each class on time.

Then, to add to his already perfect day, it started raining half way through his second class.

By the time his last class ended and Keith trudged back to his room, he was tired, soaking wet, and starving. When he tried the door, he wasn't even surprised to find it locked. Keith knocked but only empty silence answered back. With a defeated sigh, Keith slumped to the floor and pulled out his multiple syllabuses to wait for his roommate's return.

…

It was late into the evening, Keith dozing off on the floor, when quiet music woke him up. He sat up to look around and noticed the door was open. Keith was quick to gather his things and dart inside, locking it behind him.

There was no sign of his roommate, only the radio on the counter playing Spanish music.

Next to it sat Keith's wallet and keys that he pocketed with a grimace. Shuffling over to the fridge, he finished off the last of the pizza, making a mental note to do some grocery shopping soon. He dropped his book bag in his room and dug through his drawers for some dry clothes.

As he headed towards the bathroom for a hot shower, Keith paused in front of the other door. It was shut again but he could hear quiet humming coming from the other side. Keith raised his hand to knock but lowered his hand after a moment, remembering the sharp glare and cold shoulder.

With a sigh, he crossed the hall to the bathroom, calling a quiet, "Thanks, I guess," before closing the door.

…

As the week went on, Keith grew accustomed to his busy schedule and managed to keep up with the constant stream of homework and studying.

What he had trouble with, though, was back in his dorm.

The problem wasn't his roommate. He barely even _saw_ his roommate, let alone interacted with him. Keith occasionally passed the other man around campus but only saw him once in their actual room. He'd stopped by between classes to grab a book he forgot and found Lance in the living room. In the time it took for Keith to rush to his room and back, book in hand, Lance had already disappeared out of the dorm. It was frustrating but Keith preferred an aloof roommate to his previous arrangements.

The problem with his dorm turned out to be the dorm itself. Little, suspicious things that were starting to make his life a living hell.

His phone charger came unplugged even when he double checked it before bed. While writing a paper, Keith went to get something from the kitchen only to come back and find his laptop shut down; Keith was just thankful the essay had already been saved. While showering, the light had blown own and left him in the dark only for it to start working again when he managed to find a replacement bulb. A strap on his backpack suddenly breaking. A dresser drawer jamming that took twenty minutes to fix. The radio in the kitchen playing music at three a.m. every morning without fail.

With the growing frequency of the strange phenomena, Keith was starting to believe Pidge's claim of a haunting.

…

Saturday rolled around and Keith was happy to have a break, slumping in his chair as Pidge plopped down next to him, sipping at some cocoa while Shiro waited for his order.

"You look like shit."

Keith was too tired to even muster a glare. "Thanks, Pidge."

"Always glad to point out the obvious," she chirped, shoving their glasses further up their nose with a serious frown. "Seriously, though, it's only been a week and you look terrible."

"I hate to say it but Pidge is right," Shiro said, taking the free seat with a concerned look. "Is everything okay? You're not overworking yourself, are you? How many classes are you taking?"

"The classes aren't the problem," Keith huffed, taking a swig of his coffee.

"What is it then?" Shiro asked, his face hardening. "Is it your roommate? You could always find another room, you know."

Keith shook his head. "No, not the roommate. I barely even see the guy. He's always either gone or hiding out in his room."

"So what is it then?"

Taking a deep breath, Keith shifted his coffee between his gloved hands. "Remember Pidge saying the floor was haunted?"

"Oh jeez," Shiro sighed as Pidge nearly jumped out of her seat in excitement.

"HAVE YOU SEEN THE GHOST?!" she shouted, eyes sparkling with a manic grin on their face. Shiro tugged her back down into her seat.

"Calm down, you're scaring the public."

Pidge waved him off. "Yeah that's great, Shiro, but _ghosts_!" She leaned over the table to stare at Keith. "What's been happening? Did you see something? Hear something? Tell me you've been writing everything down."

"No I haven't seen or heard anything," Keith muttered, starting to feel silly about his confession. "There's just been…weird stuff happening. Like my computer shutting down and the light in the bathroom going out then working again suddenly and this freaking radio in the kitchen always starts playing music in the middle of the night."

"Ooooh very cool," Pidge nodded, pulling out a notepad and pen to jot everything down.

Next to them, Shiro was frowning skeptically. "I think you're just overthinking this, Keith. Half of that stuff has a rational explanation; computers restart sometimes. Old buildings have faulty wiring. Maybe the radio is set to an alarm or something."

"I keep telling myself that but it still seems off. I'm the only one having any kind of problem. Half of it I would think is just normal everyday issues but they're too coincidental."

"There's only one way to get to the bottom of this," Pidge announced. She tapped their pen against the notepad with a grin. "We need to get some proof."

Keith groan and slumped in his chair. "Not again..."

"Come on, Keith. You said it yourself, there's weird stuff happening. This is our chance to investigate some supernatural stuff. If it's a ghost, we get our proof; if it's just coincidence, you can put you're doubts to rest."

"And just how are you planning on getting this proof, Pidge," Shiro asked, taking a sip of his tea.

"Simple," she smirked, flipping to another page and writing out a list. "Set up a couple cameras, a few tape recorders, the works. If there's anything prowling around the dorms, we're bound to catch something."

"No, Pidge," Keith huffed, scrubbing a hand through his hair in irritation. "I'm not letting you turn my dorm into some kind of ghost hunting escapade."

"Oh come on, Keith, you don't want to see if the dorm ghost is real?"

"At this point, I'd rather not know. If there is one, it's already decided to make my life a living hell. I don't need you pissing it off and making things worse. Shiro's probably right, anyways. I've been busy and tired and making little everyday things into hauntings."

Shiro gave him a comforting smile and patted his shoulder. "Just try to get some rest and don't worry about the rest. It'll get better if you stop thinking about ghosts."

"I'll try," Keith nodded.

"And if it gets worse?" Pidge asked, looking too excited at Keith's suffering. "Do I get to do ghost hunting then?"

He rolled his eyes. "No promises."


	3. Chapter 3

3

It took another week of school and paranormal pranking for Keith to finally snap.

It was Friday night and he was hunched over his desk, books and papers scattered everywhere while he tapped his pen irritably. Two of his professors had assigned last minute essays due by midnight, he had a group project he had to finish by himself, _and_ he had to study for a Monday test. To keep up with everything, Keith had already pulled an all-nighter and exhaustion was closing in. All in all, the endless barrage of information was scrambling his frazzled brain.

He finished another paragraph, skimming over his progress as he drained the last of his coffee. Frowning, he saved the half-finished report and shuffled off towards the kitchen.

Keith was surprised to find that the coffee he had left earlier was gone, the empty pot set by the sink. Sighing, he set up the pot to brew a new batch and went back to his room to start another paragraph in his wait.

The paper was almost done when Keith set the computer down again. He rubbed his tired eyes and shuffled his way back to the kitchen. He grabbed the pot, realizing bleakly that it was empty and that the coffeemaker was off. With a grumble, Keith turned it back on, lingering to make sure it was actually brewing before returning to his room.

Keith nearly screamed in frustration when he opened his door. The fan in the corner was on full blast, the breeze tossing his carefully stacked papers in disarray around the room and flipping the pages of his textbooks randomly.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Keith yelled, flicking the fan off before stomping around the room to gather his scattered notes. It took him fifteen minutes to organize everything and finally finish the first essay with a relieved sigh.

He stretched his back and decided to refuel on coffee before tackling the next essay. Returning to the kitchen, Keith was almost surprised to see Lance already there.

It was rare enough for him to make an appearance and even rare for him to stick around once Keith had entered the room. They still hadn't introduced themselves; Lance usually bolted without a word, either going back to his room with the door shut or just leaving the dorm entirely.

This time, however, he didn't leave as Keith trudged over to the counter. He was lingering by the fridge, a mischievous smirk on his face as he watched Keith grab his mug, moved to the wrong side of the counter. Keith grimaced but chose to ignore him, grabbing the pot again to finally get some coffee.

Instead of coffee, though, only hot water filled his mug. Keith nearly cried as he reached over to pour the rest out into the sink, still not believing what he was seeing. It took him moment of blank staring before he noticed the coffee filter, still filled with dry grounds, sitting on the counter.

Across the kitchen, Lance was still watching, his smirk breaking as he first started snickering then outright laughing as Keith continued to stare at the coffee maker numbly. The laughing grew louder and scraped against Keith's strained, sleep deprived nerves until he couldn't take it anymore. With a growl, he whirled around, glaring down surprised blue eyes.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY!?" Keith shouted, both hands coming up to grip his long hair, one still grasping the empty coffee pot. " _What is your problem with me_?! I've tried being a good roommate. I'm not loud, I don't stay up late or go partying, I don't leave my things laying around or mess with any of your stuff! I even left you alone when you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me!"

The other man just continued to stare, jaw dropped in surprise as Keith gritted his teeth, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to punch the other's pretty face.

"Well!?"

"You–" the other started, voice cracking as he fought to form a sentence. "You can see me?"

Keith reeled as the strange question, confusion quickly bleeding back to anger. "Of course I can see you, _Lance_! Do I look like I'm _blind_!?"

"You know my name?"

"Yes! Though you never gave me the _courtesy_ of introducing yourself; I saw it written on the boxes in your room!" He turned and slammed the coffee pot onto the counter, ignoring the tinkling sound of scattering glass. "Look if you wanted another roommate, all you had to do was ask! Or, better yet, move out _yourself_!"

A tense silence followed, Keith panting with rage boiling in his chest while the other man just stood frozen and pale, blinking in shock.

"Fine," Keith took a breath and turned to leave. "I'll request a transfer in the morning."

He stormed off towards his room, rapid footsteps following as Lance finally snapped out of his daze.

"Wait!" he called, appearing beside Keith and grabbing at his arm. Keith yanked out of his grip, back slamming against the opposite wall as he turned to snarl.

" _Don't touch me_!"

Lance threw his hands up in a nonthreatening gesture, eyes concerned as they glanced at Keith's upraised fist. "You're hurt."

Keith raised his brow in confusion, following Lance's gaze to his hand. The side of his palm was bloody and riddled with broken glass, red dripping from his wrist to the floor.

"Oh," Keith muttered, slowly cradling the hand to his chest. He didn't feel any pain yet but his fingers were shaking slightly from adrenaline. He glanced up to see Lance still entirely too close, blue eyes wide and worried, one hand reaching but still hesitant to touch.

Keith glanced at the floor again, remembering that he was mad. "Whatever," he snapped, shouldering past Lance in the cramped hall and nearly making it to his room.

"Oh no, you don't!" The back of Keith's shirt was grabbed and he was yanked backwards, one arm wrapping around his middle to lift him off the ground.

Keith yelped and flailed his legs, trying to touch the floor. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

"Calm down before you hurt yourself even worse," Lance said, backtracking towards the bathroom. "You can't just ignore an injury like that, you know."

"I've had worse," Keith said. He stopped kicking but still squirmed in the tight grasp around his waist. The light flicked on in the bathroom and Keith was set back down on solid ground. He considered bolting for the door but Lance was standing in the way, a tight frown pinching his features.

"Humor me."

Sighing, Keith sat on the edge of the tub. "This isn't necessary."

Lance was already digging in one of the cabinets, pulling out an old first aid kit Keith didn't even know they had. He set it on the sink and kneeled in front of Keith. "I'll be the judge of that. May I?" Lance offered his hand in question.

Keith hesitated, glancing at his own hand, still bleeding and staining his shirt red. The pain was more noticeable, his wrist throbbing with each movement. Lance gave him a reassuring smile and waited patiently. After a moment, Keith slowly relinquished his arm.

Eyes filled with relief, Lance gingerly took Keith's hand, palm cradling his wrist carefully, as he looked over the damage. "I don't think you hit anything major. Can you move your fingers?" Keith flexed each of his fingers in turn, wincing when his pinky jostled the cut.

Lance released Keith's hand long enough to wet a washcloth and bring the kit closer before his hold was back, still gentle but firm. "Hold still, okay? I need to get the glass out."

"I told you it's not that big a deal, I can do it myself," Keith tried to argue, tugging his arm back. The hold around his wrist tightened as Lance glared up at him.

"Just…let me. Please? I have two hands and can see what I'm doing versus you with one hand and a mirror."

Keith frowned but nodded when Lance refused to release his injured hand. "Fine."

"Okay. Let me know if it hurts too much." He pulled out a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and started tugging out glass fragments, one at a time, occasionally pausing to dab away some of the blood to see better.

Every once in a while, a glass shard would prick or the washcloth would drag rough against the exposed wound despite Lance's gentle movements. Keith bit his lip and dug his nails into his thigh, trying to block the pain and ignore the sympathetic blue gaze that would dart to his face with each wince.

"I think that's all of it," Lance finally said, setting the tweezers down. Keith gently moved his hand and felt over the cut. The bleeding had stopped and it didn't feel like any glass was left but it was starting to throb and his wrist was cramping from tensing for so long.

"Don't touch it, you'll get it infected," Lance chastised, grabbing some antiseptic and holding Keith's hand over the tub. "This is going to hurt but I need to clean it out before we bandage it, okay?"

"Just do it."

The burning sting had Keith yelping and biting down on his lip to stifle any other noises, tears prickling his eyes as the cut was washed.

"There were go. We're done, it's okay now," Lance whispered to him as he patted the area around the cut dry. The pain was almost worse but Keith refused to admit it.

Keith's hand was set in his lap as Lance dug through the first aid kit again, pulling out a few more items and setting them aside. "Almost done." Lance easily guided his hand back, applying antibiotics and a bandage before pulling out a length of gauze.

"Do I really need to wear that?" Keith frowned as Lance started to wrap the fabric around his wrist and palm in practiced patterns.

"Well it's not a deep cut but since it's on your hand, you might reopen the wound if you move it around too much. Usually you would get stitches to make sure it heals right but I doubt you want to do that, huh?" Lance asked, a knowing smile catching Keith off guard.

He flushed and shook his head. "No this is fine," he muttered, staring down as Lance finished the last of the wrapping. The palm cradling his hand was cool against his heated skin, long fingers brushing soothing circles against his wrist. Keith blushed even harder, shuffling back slightly.

Lance stilled his hands, glancing at Keith apologetically. "Sorry."

"N-no it's fine," Keith stuttered out, barely able to meet the bright blue studying him. "It doesn't hurt."

"Well not just that, I–" Lance frowned as he fought for the right words, brow pinched and nose wrinkled as he glanced back at Keith seriously. "I'm sorry for, well, being such a jerk."

Keith shrugged. "Not the first time it's happened. My last few roommates tried to kick me out, too."

Lance's frown only deepened. "Why?"

Old and bitter anger hit Keith in the gut and he looked away. "A better question is why were _you_ trying to get me to leave?"

"I wasn't…" Lance stopped and gave a tight smile. "Well I guess I was. It's a long story, really. And nothing personal against you."

"Yeah, sure. I've heard that before, too," Keith laughed weakly, glancing down at his bandaged hand still in Lance's grasp.

"Seriously. You didn't do anything wrong, I was just being a jerk." Keith felt Lance's other hand on his chin, tilting his face up till their eyes met. "Would you believe me if I told you I didn't think you saw me?" he asked with a smile.

"What? Why? There's only two of us, why wouldn't I see you?"

Lance chuckled at some sort of inside joke before continuing. "When was the first time you saw me?"

"Well when I first moved in I saw you in the hallway. I was going to say hi but you looked…pissed off. Then you went to your room and closed the door. Then whenever I saw you around, you would either look angry or storm off and slam a door so I thought you hated me."

A quiet moment passed as Lance stared at him. Then he started to laugh. A clear, joyful sound that Keith would have found charming under different circumstances.

"I fail to see how this is funny," he muttered, shrugging away from where Lance was still holding him. Instead of being released, he was pulled forward into a strong embrace, the laughter so strong, it shook through Lance's body into Keith's as he clung to him.

"Dios mio," Lance chuckled, leaning back, hands on Keith's shoulders as he smiled brightly. "We could have been talking this whole time. I'm such an idiot."

Keith felt like he was getting whiplash from the strange behavior. "You never answered my question," Keith finally prompted, crossing his arms as best he could with his still bundled hand.

"Oh right! I guess I should tell you since I can actually _tell_ you," he laughed, jumping to his feet like an excited child. "First, I have to warn you, don't freak out, okay?"

Keith stared in confusion, not sure what to expect. "O…kay?" he agreed after a moment.

"It's kind of a big deal and," Lance paused, looking both cheerful but sad at the same time. "You're the first person I can talk to."

"You don't have a dead body in your closet or anything, do you?" Keith asked hesitantly, slowly standing up and debating if he should be running for the door. He was getting more and more nervous by whatever secret Lance was wanting to share.

"What? No! At least, I hope not," Lance grinned again. "Just…promise you won't freak out and like run screaming out of here or something, okay?"

Keith bit the inside of his cheek, still apprehensive, but Lance's pleading blue eyes won him over. "Fine. Just tell me."

"Well it's easier if I just show you," Lance admitted, stepping backwards to close the bathroom door. Keith glanced between him and the door, his fight or flight instincts nudging at his mind. Only the knife on his belt made him feel a bit safer in the enclosed space.

Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and smiling at Keith again. "Okay here I go. No freaking out; you promised."

Keith huffed and started to roll his eyes and Lance stepped backwards.

And disappeared through the door.

Keith froze, eyes wide and staring at the wooden door where Lance had been just seconds before. He couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, mind whirling too fast to properly comprehend what just happened. He jumped and nearly tripped into the tub when a disembodied hand reached through the door, waving at him before giving him a thumbs up.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Lance asked as he stepped back through the door like it wasn't even there.

"Y-you…you…" Keith sputtered, pointing a shaky hand at the other man. "You– You're a–a–a…"

Lance's face fell. "Ghost."

The single word shatter Keith's mental capacity. "You're the ghost," he muttered, more to himself then the specter.

"Yeah…"

"Pidge was right!" Keith gasped, taking a single step forward only for his knees to collapse as the weight of everything became too much to bare.

"Whoa, hey! Keith, you alright, buddy? Keith!"

The last thing Keith remembered were strong arms around his waist, a solid chest against his cheek, and a worried voice in his ear before he blacked out completely.


End file.
